The City that Never Sleeps
–-
Sam briefly wondered what possessed him to take a road trip to the Big Apple during his summer vacation. Oh, sure, he'd had a ball driving all the way with Mikaela and Bee, meeting up with Optimus and his brand new human, trucker friend at one point, but now he wasn't so confident.
It was bad enough that the Big Apple was already an insane asylum, a place where logic and sometimes decency went to die; he really should have thought about what would happen when you added a stubborn, independent girlfriend and giant robotic alien friend into the mix.
Things were made even worse when Mikaela started cramping, and a desperate Sam had come up with the brilliant idea to walk to the 24-hour corner store only two blocks from their hotel room in search of the ever soothing chocolate at three in the morning.
And now he was being followed. Again.
Though this time not by Satan's Camaro, someone he'd currently rather have following him, because the aforementioned 'demonic' car always had his best interests in mind. No, this stalker probably wanted his wallet, and though the deep pockets of Sam's pants kept it safe from regular pickpockets, Sam didn't think this guy was going to try a quick grope to get at it.
He really didn't want to think about the possibility that his stalker had other things in mind, and he desperately wished that Bee had given him some kind of communicator so he could call the Autobot for a quick pick-up, as his cell was not-so-conveniently still in the hotel room.
It also really didn't help that Sam had another brilliant idea to try and lose the guy by weaving through different alleyways, and now the teen was thoroughly lost and blocks away from the safety of the hotel.
It just wasn't his night.
He ducked onto another desolate street, this one better lit than the grungy alleys, but still no help when it came for directions or an open store to hide in and wait for the guy to get bored and go away.
The stalker sped up, Sam got even more nervous. "Damnit, damnit, damnit!"
Sam really didn't do well when sleep deprived, far away from home, and in company with a gleefully amused car and a snarling girlfriend.
Figuring that it was better to make a stand and at least save the chocolate, Sam turned and prepared to try and talk the man down. The stalker stared at him grimly, dressed in all black and a beanie, with his hands in a pocket.
He shifted the bag nervously, the sound of rustling plastic and his shuffling feet covered the soft whump of billowing leather. "Look, what're you following me for? I don't have anything!"
The stalker raised one thick eyebrow, looked at Sam and then to the bag. Great, his stalker was a smarmy, quiet bastard. Sam cursed, backing up. "I'm serious! I only brought enough cash to get candy, all right?"
Somewhere in the back of Sam's mind, he realized he was only incriminating himself further, and he let out a strangled yell when the man suddenly came at him, a hidden knife held firmly in his hand.
"Holy shit!" He yelped, stumbling backwards and swinging the candy bag like a flimsy, plastic flail.
The man missed, and prepared to attack again. "Just gimme your damn wallet, boy!"
After Megatron, that was so not the thing to call Sam. "Like hell I will!" He barked back, spreading his feet in an unconscious imitation of Lennox's defensive stance.
Something above them growled, rumbling lowly in a threatening manner that sounded a lot less metallic than an angered Autobot, but very much as irritated.
The man paled, looked up, and let out a strangled whine. Another growl, and Sam looked up to see two pairs of glowing eyes, one red, one white, staring down at the scene.
"Leave the boy alone," a rich, feminine voice said, and in the dim light Sam caught a glimpse of teeth, horns, and a long tail attached to a dark shape clinging to a building wall. Looking like he was about to wet himself, the potential thief and attacker ran away, dropping the gleaming weapon in his haste.
Okay. That was weird.
"Um…" Sam began, staring open mouthed at the two beings above him. The second was larger and lighter in color, and perching on a light pole as if it were flat ground. "Hi– thanks?"
Memories from forever ago flashed in his mind about a bombing at a New York police department, of priceless statues being destroyed by a batshit vigilante group, and of strange lights coming from the Xanatos Corp's fancy office building-slash-above-ground-castle. And then nothing as the media circus found some other snafu to focus on– sort of the same thing that had happened with Mission City.
The pairs of glowing eyes suddenly dimmed and Sam briefly wondered what that meant. Hopefully it was a good thing, because there was a leathery rustle and both creatures leapt from their perches and landed to the ground in front of him.
Tall, was Sam's first observation. But not as dizzyingly tall as the Autobots, or Megatron.
He could deal with that.
Leathery, teal and purple, wings, and distinctly not human were his next ones.
He could deal with that too, but he sort of wished that Bee were there to play the Twilight Zone theme. It would certainly make him feel better.
"Hello," the obviously female one said, stepping forward curiously, hesitantly, and hopefully.
"Hi." Sam repeated, still holding Mikaela's goody bag. "Thanks for chasing that guy off, it's always nice when the locals lend a helping hand."
"You're not scared?" The bigger male asked, sounding so open and hopeful like the female that Sam was taken aback.
"Ah, no. This is weird, but not really that weird." He paused. "I'm used to weird. It happens around me a lot."
Though slightly intimidated by the female's distinctly fanged smile, he was pleased to note that she seemed genuinely happy with his reaction, holding out a taloned, three-fingered hand. "I'm Angela, and this is my mate, Broadway."
So living drain spouts had boyfriends and girlfriends? Cool.
"Sam, Sam Witwicky." He grinned, trying not to wince from her unsurprisingly strong grip. "Um… If you don't mind me asking, are you gargoyles? I was, like, seven when New York went crazy and made national news about that."
Angela laughed, towering over him, "Yes. Yes, we are gargoyles." Her head tilted and Sam noticed the gold studs glittering in her ears. "We've been protecting this island for a long time now."
"Long enough for most people to kinda see us as part of the scenery," the hefty Broadway said with a grin. "Though they usually start screaming when we try to talk to them."
Sam just whistled, "Wow, you'd think they'd get the picture after ten years of you guys doing what you did just now."
Angela shrugged, lips quirking into a smile. "We've managed to convince quite a few, but most people would rather not believe we exist."
"I can sympathize with that," Sam said flippantly, thinking about Mission City and how everyone had gobbled up the governmental assurance that it was just a mistake, nothing to worry about, go on and forget this. No giant alien robots here.
He nearly hit himself in the head when he realized they were looking at him curiously and expectantly. "Um… Ignore that?"
Angela had an amazing likeness to Mikaela when she gave him A Look and crossed her arms.
He laughed sheepishly, "I'm really not supposed to talk about it."
Broadway just let out a deep, chuckling rumble, stepping forward to put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "We understand," he gave his girlfriend– what did gargoyle lovers call each other, other than mate? Sam was finding himself somewhat uncomfortable with the word, and thought that boy/girlfriend didn't quite fit either– a dry look, "Angela's just curious."
Angela rolled her eyes, the motion made odd by her lack of eyebrows, and huffed in pure feminine indignation.
A small alarm went off somewhere in Sam's head. Feminine indignation. Mikaela. Cramping. Chocolates. "Aw, crap! Mikaela!" He yelped, clutching the candy laden bag in mild panic. "I've gotta get back to the hotel, Mikaela's probably freaking right now-" he babbled, mind coming up with images of Mikaela racing out to Bee, the two of them frantically searching the city for him, frightened, worry growing when they couldn't find him and then the inevitable call to the other Autobots– the last thing New York needed right now was a whole unit of Autobots coming to his rescue. He turned quickly on his heel and began to dither on which direction to go when Broadway caught him again.
"Whoa! Hold on there, maybe we can give you a lift back? It'll be safer than wandering the streets."
"Lift?" Sam asked, panic ebbing. "Like, as in flying?" The prospect was certainly tempting, and all together not unwanted.
Angela laughed, walking to where Sam was now standing. "Of course! But we actually glide, rather than fly."
Broadway held out a hand and Angela turned around, "Up you get," he said and helped Sam wrap his arms around the female gargoyle's neck.
After two amused seconds of remembering that Optimus had said the exact same thing to him and Mikaela after Sector 7 had started their chase, he looked at the large gargoyle. "Um, you don't mind?" He vaguely motioned to where his arms were, and his legs wrapped around Angela's waist.
Broadway just grinned, watching and letting out a chuckle at Sam's startled yelp when Angela leapt onto the nearest building's wall and began climbing. "You can't wrap your legs around me," he said sheepishly, "And it's easier to have you on our backs when we're climbing."
"Where are you staying?" Angela's head turned slightly to the side, and Sam looked down at the ground far below them. He was not going to scream when they took off, he was not.
"The Larchmont, somewhere around 11th street I think." Angela nodded, and a request to hold on, pushed herself off the brick wall and into open air.
Watching the ground come at them rapidly, Sam screamed. And then started laughing when the gargoyle caught a thermal and soared above the buildings with ease. His death grip around Angela's neck lessened, and he grinned to himself. This was almost as cool and hitching a ride on Bee's shoulders.
Broadway glided up smoothly besides them, grinning over at the teen. "Having fun?" He asked over the whistling wind.
"Hell yeah!" Sam roared back, grinning and letting the rest of the flight fall silent, listening to the shifting of leather wings, the plastic rattle of the bag, and the sound of wind in his ears.
The Larchmont was a large, newly refurbished hotel– now with balconies! a too chipper for New York clerk had told them– and even at this time of night, lights were on in some of the rooms. Sam needn't have worried about being spotted though, the curtains were drawn, and they circled twice to let Sam figure out where his room was.
Below them in the parking lot, a yellow Camaro honked its horn as they touched down on what Sam hoped was his and Mikaela's balcony.
"It's all right," he yelled over the ledge, waving the bag for Bee to see. "They're friends!"
Angela and Broadway blinked, looked at each other, and then down at the Camaro. "Boy, sounds like you've got a story to tell…" Broadway murmured.
Sam laughed weakly, tensing when the lights in the room came on and he heard pounding footsteps coming towards them. "Man, I hope this is the right one…" he muttered, as Angela and Broadway leapt onto the wall of the building and climbed up and out of sight.
Mikaela's startled and worried face appeared behind the glass and he grinned as she threw open the door and launched herself at him. "Sam! Sam, you dork, I've been trying to get a hold of you and you left your phone-" She stopped, nostrils flaring once and inhaled slowly. "Just how did you get on the balcony?"
He looked up, beckoning the two gargoyles to come down, and Mikaela followed his gaze, gasping sharply.
"Sam." She said slowly, "You meet the strangest people."
–-
TBC
Disclaimer: Gargoyles belongs to Disney, Transformers belongs to Hasbro and Paramount. I own nothing! Nothing! Save for a few comics, and lots of toys. :D I love my toys.
Author's note: It had to be done. TT And this was supposed to be a small drabble, but then it totally mutated on me. I might write more, I might not.
Also, the Larchmont hotel does indeed exist, although it doesn't have balconies. Boo.